


Coffee and Conversation

by ThePlotMurderer



Category: Dark Shadows (1966)
Genre: 1967 Timeline, But what else is new?, F/M, Fluff, Inspired by Joni Mitchell, Mentions of Joe/Carolyn, Oneshot, Pre-Barnabas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:46:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26495092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePlotMurderer/pseuds/ThePlotMurderer
Summary: Maggie is everybody's confidante. Some lonely nights, she wishes she were a little bit more.
Relationships: Maggie Evans/Joe Haskell
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	Coffee and Conversation

Maggie Evans saw a lot from the other end of the counter. She heard a lot too. The arguing of married couples over coffee. The grumblings of fishermen, having a quick sandwich before setting off for a too-long day on the open sea.

She wouldn't claim to have a complete oral history of Collinsport and all its inhabitants, of course, but she _did_ know a thing or two. She knew who was generally happy, who was generally displeased. She knew who resented bigwig Roger Collins ruling over the cannery when he'd never done a day's honest work in his life. She knew the rumors about Burke Devlin being back for revenge, about the death of Bill Malloy being more than just a mere accident, about all the ancient ghost stories surrounding the great house on the crest of Widows' Hill.

And she knew that service with a smile would still net a measly ten cent tip, and that's if you were lucky.

She tried not to complain, though. A job was a job, after all. A girl had to make a living _somehow_.

Maggie was roused from her ruminations on this particularly dreary late shift by the familiar noise of the restaurant door opening.

“And here I was, thinking I'd have the place to myself tonight,” she quipped lightly.

“Sorry to disappoint,” the young man had his head lowered, hands in the pockets of a familiar, weather-worn wool jacket.

“Are you kidding? Another minute of silence in here and I'd start talking to the donuts.”

Joe Haskell lifted his face to hers, sitting on a stool, “Do they ever talk back?”

“Depends how tired I am,” she smiled, “Well, Mr. Haskell, what'll it be? Black coffee to keep you awake, or a nice, juicy roast beef on rye to put you to sleep till morning?”

“Got anything stronger than roast beef?”

“You'll want to rendezvous with my Pop at the Blue Whale,” she replied sardonically, “This is a _dry_ establishment.”

“Nah, I...I'm joking, I don't want to get drunk,” he paused, “Coffee, Maggie, thanks.”

She nodded, crossing to the coffee pot, “At the risk of being too familiar, Joe, you seem pretty down in the dumps.”

“Do I?” he chuckled softly, “Eh, I feel no more miserable than usual.”

“A funny thing, Joe,” Maggie spoke over her shoulder to him, “About this job is that I've got a contract.”

“Oh yeah?”

“A contract of _silence_. Anybody can say anything they want to me over this counter, and by the law, I can't repeat a thing of it to anybody else.”

“Like a bartender?”

“Or a priest,” she pushed a freshly filled cup of black coffee over to him, “Tough day at the office?”

Joe shrugged, “Just more of the same. Well, there's more talk of who'll be getting Bill Malloy's job...”

“Anybody we know?”

Joe gave her this _look_ and Maggie was barely able to suppress a squeal of glee, “Oh, Joe, that's terrific! You know what, coffee's on the house...”

“I don't _want_ the job, Maggie,” said Joe, “In fact, I turned it down.”

“Oh,” she bit her lip, “Why?”

“Well, some of the guys around the plant have got it in their heads that I didn't _earn_ the promotion. That Mrs. Stoddard's only offered it because of Carolyn.”

“They said that to you?”

“And I believed 'em,” he said matter-of-factly.

Maggie was quiet for a short time, “Joe...”

“You believe it too, don't you?” he took a sip of coffee, “You can _say_ it, Maggie. Better than hearing it from a bunch of knuckleheads halfway across the room.”

So Maggie relented, “Mrs. Stoddard owes you a lot. Guess it can't be easy for you at that place, everybody knowing you're going with the boss's daughter.”

“Eh, I'm used to being ragged on by now. I mean it's be easier if...”

But he trailed off, as if unable to finish. He stared down into the coffee, looking like he was fit to drown himself in it.

“Those _guys_ are idiots.”

“We're agreed.”

“And if Mrs. Stoddard thinks your only worth what you can do for Carolyn, _she's_ an idiot.”

“Maggie!” Joe looked at her askance, “You watch what you say about Mrs. Stoddard...”

“Why? Is she gonna hex me?”

“She might just,” he allowed a smile, “Now, it's...it's not on her. She wants me to marry Carolyn.”

“And does Carolyn want to marry you?”

Almost immediately, Maggie rued herself for so much as saying that. She was about to apologize when Joe sighed, “I don't know _what_ Carolyn wants. Sometimes, I don't think even _she_ knows. She runs around like a kid, you know. Everyday, it's some new thing that gets to be the center of her world.”

“When do you get _your_ turn in the center.”

“Who's to say it hasn't already passed?” he held the coffee cup in two hands, looking through the steam to her, “The thing of it is, I can't be mad at her. She loves _life_. She wants to get something out of it. And I love that. I...I love _her_.”

“Even if she doesn't love you?” Maggie asked quietly.

“Maybe that's just it,” said Joe, “Maybe she _doesn't_ love me, really, and she doesn't know how to say it, and we're just sitting across each other, waiting for someone to blink.”

Maggie leaned against the counter, “Well, if I know Carolyn Stoddard, she's not the blinking type.”

“Maggie, call me crazy, but I think you're trying to tell me something,” there was an odd, twinkling light in his eyes. Maggie felt her face redden, “Do you remember high school?”

“Uncomfortably well.”

“There was this one girl with...oh, frizzy red hair and really big braces. Two left feet and a a fashion sense we'll just call 'unfortunate'.”

“I never paid much attention to clothes,” Joe smirked, “And braces...well, I look into people's _eyes_ when they talk.”

“That's a good habit,” she chuckled, “Well, this girl had eyes for this guy on the football team.”

“Oh yeah? Maybe I know him.”

“Maybe. It was a small school. Well, she thought he was just the bee's knees, and she really wanted to get his attention. But she didn't know what to do about it. She'd just get so tongue-tied thinking about going up to him that she never _did_ more than think.”

“Was she afraid of him, or something?” Joe asked softly.

“Oh, she was _terrified_. What if he made fun of her,or laughed at her, or just said 'no'? She decided it was safer not doing anything.”

Joe was quiet, “That's a shame.”

“It was,” she nodded, “Really, she _had_ nothing to lose in the first place,” she smiled, “And a lot to gain.”

“She learned a lesson, then?”

“She did. She's not the shrinking violet she was.”

“I bet,” he grinned, “Maggie Evans, if I was a suspicious man, I'd say you were trying to tell me something.”

“And what would that _something_ be?”

Joe took one last, healthy swig from the coffee cup, “Sometimes, it's better to just get things off your chest. Whatever _they_ say after you do. Is that quite right?”

“A++, Mr. Haskell.”

“Never got that good a mark on anything on my life.”

“Well, there's no better time to start.”

Joe got to his feet, consulting his watch, “Ah, I'd better hit the sack.”

“Late to bed, early to rise?”

“It's a living,” he rifled for his wallet, “What do I owe you?”

“Nothing. I _said_ the coffee was on the house.”

“Maggie, I'm not about to stiff you.”

“I know,” she smiled, “Consider the conversation a payment on its own.”

He laughed softly, lowering his head, “Maggie, I...” he sighed, “Thank you. For what you said. And...” he seemed to search for words, “You've got a nice smile. With braces or without.”

She beamed, “You _did_ notice.”

“More than I let on,” he hovered by the door, “I guess I'll see you around?”

“You know where to find me.”

“Yeah,” he smiled at her, “I do. But, Maggie?”

“Hm?”

“Next time,coffee's on _me_.”

And he was gone. Maggie sighed softly, watching his receding figure through the window as it went across the street, down the road, and out of sight.

The rest of the night passed lonely and quietly, but Maggie didn't feel alone. No, for the first time in a long time, she felt she had a common spirit in this cold, dreary, dark place.

And maybe Joe would say something. Or maybe Carolyn would. Perhaps they'd have it out with each other, and patch things up or fall apart as need be.

Maggie knew where she'd be, one way or the other. Behind this counter, for some coffee, conversation...

And commiseration too, as need be.

* * *

Thanks for reading! I'd have put this into the 'notes' section, but I've got a hyperlink here, and that won't work...I think.

I spun this oneshot off a tangent I went on in a post for my blog...which I have, it's a real thing. If you're here _because_ of my blog, hi, welcome back. If you're here just because, and would _like_ to visit the blog: [Kooks of Collinwood](https://kooksofcollinwood.home.blog/) turns a year old this week! It's a gas, we have a great time going through the show from beginning to, eventually, ideally, the end.

But if you're just here for the fic, who can blame you? I hope you liked it!

**Author's Note:**

> This fic, like much of my day-to-day existence, was inspired, in a roundabout way, by Joni Mitchell. In this case, her song "Conversation" from 1970's "Ladies of the Canyon" album.


End file.
